Tuesday, July 26, 2011
There was a family fishing hole,
but I never liked to fish.
They cast with wooden fishing poles,
competing for a wish.
But I sat on the rocks and looked,
at gemstones in the stream.
As one by one the fish they hooked;
I chose another a dream.
Rubies sparkled just beneath me,
were scooped up in my hand.
I listened to the shouts of glee
of those fishers near the sand.
So once they caught their fill,
they thought to leave this place.
My treasure gave me such a thrill,
that showed upon my face.
They made their way to where I sat,
inquiring what I'd found.
I let them peek at this and that,
the stones from sandy ground.
We headed home at sunset,
exchanging funny tales.
Me with shiny rubies;
them with slimey scales.